


patron saint of liars and fakes

by petragem



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petragem/pseuds/petragem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The high school AU with awkward teenage flirting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	patron saint of liars and fakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [insomniabug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniabug/gifts).



> Written for the omg holiday fangift exchange.

She starts watching him in the winter, Luke: tall, blond, perpetually disheveled. Kind of pathetic. Utterly convinced he’s going to win Andy back, which is precious, truly. Gail’s certain she saw her flirting with a kid in Grade 12 with dark eyes and actual stubble just last week.

A piece of Luke’s hair’s always standing straight up in the back. He never seems to notice. 

It’s shitty that she’s interested, probably, considering she’s sort of friendly with Andy and rumor was Luke cheated on her with his ex, this skinny, fierce-looking girl from P.S. 27. But fuck it, frankly, Gail’s never been good at girl friend stuff anyway and they’re not even really friends. Andy’s close with Gail’s ex though, plus they used to see each other all the time at volleyball practice, her and Andy, but the season’s almost over and ever since Chris fucking dumped her for no reason at all she doesn’t hang out with that crowd as much. Besides, she doesn’t like Luke _because_ of Andy, as a way to somehow get back at her or something. She likes that he looks as miserable as she feels.

She sees Luke in the halls a lot, his messy head over all the other slightly shorter happier heads, before third period, before lunch, before seventh. Before school, if she gets there early, which is rare, and after, if her dumbass brother takes his time getting his shit from his locker, which is less so.

The bell rings after second and kids pour out into the corridor, loud, yelling to friends and enemies in passing, slamming lockers open and shut. Gail takes her time, cool, but there he is, same as always, notebooks spilling out of his locker in front of him as she walks toward Algebra.

“You look like death, dude,” she says, casual, as she passes, letting her shoulder slam into his arm. His purple-and-white checked shirt’s buttoned up all crooked.

“Yeah, well.” Luke glances up at her, recognition dawning, but. Gail’s not even sure he knows her name. He and Andy always seemed to hang out separate. He shoves a textbook into his messenger bag, adds: “You look—not like death.”

Gail snorts. “Very smooth, Homicide.”

“See you around,” she hears him call, hopeful, as she walks into class.

***

She doesn’t, though, not really. Not any more than usual.

Volleyball ends, officially. 

Gail starts painting her nails dark dark grey. Cuts back on carbs. Redoubles her efforts to avoid all casual human contact. Her locker-neighbor, Holly, has this way of rolling her eyes to convey intelligence, disgust, and disdain that Gail really respects and tries to employ at every possible turn. 

Like, say, the moments when her ex-boyfriend and his best friend forever block her escape route between her locker and the exit. Like say this moment right now, Chris and Dov, loitering at the far end of the hall in their stupid matching knit toques even though it’s barely even freezing out and swim’s finished too. In season they’ve got to cover their heads before leaving school grounds. It’s actually a rule. Something about warding off the threat of hypothermia.

Ducks around a corner, out of sight, and sighs. Rolls her eyes. Contempt and fury. Almost. She needs to practice more, with the eye-rolling.

Then. ”What’s going on here?" Luke asks, suddenly in front of her. Glances around the corner, the boys with their backs to her down the hall, heads bent down peering at something on Chris’s phone. Glances back at Gail. Waiting.

"None of your business," Gail answers, angry, and it comes out a lot harsher than she means. Still, she’s not about to explain. She doesn't need to be fucking rescued.

Luke shrugs, sticks his hands in the pockets of his crumply khakis. "Okay, fine." Does not move along.

"Don't you have practice?" she tries. His hockey bag's slung over his shoulder. 

"Nah, coach gave us the day off. Tournament over the weekend, had games for three straight days and season’s almost over, so."

Gail figures she should ask how they did, the games and scores and stats, but finds she doesn't much care.

Holly walks by, en route to her locker, looks at her like _him, really?_ and Gail has to agree with this assessment of her uncharacteristic lack in judgement, and yet: "Give me a ride home, Homicide." She has neither the time or inclination to spend any more time hiding from Chris in a hallway, to wait around any longer than she already has for her brother.

Luke looks surprised but not disinterested, says: "Yeah, of course.”

***

It continues like that for awhile, seeing him in the hall, nodding at him over the din of the crowd, rides home when their schedules align. He still seems like he's dopily pining over Andy, but he does this full-body perk now when he sees Gail, and walks by her locker a lot more, which she appreciates. It's nice to have a person cheer up when they see her. Most other students steer pretty well clear of her, something about finding her snotty and snarky and mean. Chris and Dov are still unbearable and Trace and Andy pretend very deliberately not to pick sides but sit with the boys at lunch anyway. All her teachers tend to approach her with either dread or fake-dripping charm. Her mom's the school district superintendent; dad's the principal of the rival high. It gets exhausting. But Luke's fine, a whirlwind of preppy collared shirts and axe body spray. He drives a newish Jeep. Listens to Bastille and T. Swift and Vampire Weekend, all of whom she can tolerate, and Sam Smith, whom she cannot.

He has weirdly long arms, Luke, like possibly he hasn't stopped growing yet.

They don’t talk much when he drives her home. Speculate about the weather, sometimes, or marvel at the guy who does the morning announcements in funny voices, everyday. Gail sings along to the radio.

She wants to invite him in, usually, but her family's terrifying and he's drumming his fingers on the steering wheel along with the music and he only gave her the ride because she asked. She says _bye_ , she says _thanks for the ride_ , she says _see you around_.

One day, ( _finally_ ), he says: “Want to go to the movies with me on Friday?”

Gail says yes, obviously. Friday comes, and Luke drives them to the Multiplex straight after school. Buys her ticket, buys her popcorn. They see one movie, then another. Gail thinks he might kiss her during, or after, but he doesn't, stays firmly in his personal seat-space in the theater and drops her off in front of her house same as always, looks a little bashful.

Next weekend they go to the penny arcade downtown, and the place is kind of cheesy but they have games and greasy food and Gail used to go there all the time with Chris’s crowd and had been kind of missing it, so. She beats Luke at skeeball; he beats her at darts. They split platefuls of wings and fries and onion rings. Gail wants desperately to be touched.

Goes with him to his post-season hockey reunion party, though the whole scene stays depressingly PG-13. There’s barely enough beer to go around. They split half a bottle of Coors. Luke slings a careful arm around her shoulders and introduces her as his friend.

(Traci comes late, kissing Jerry hello. She spots Gail across the very testosteroney room almost immediately. Surprise, eyes widening. Gail waves a tiny awkward wave. Traci comes over, presses a quick kiss into her cheek. Murmurs "you and Callaghan, huh," into Gail's ear. Then: ”Good to see you, also, obviously.”

Gail relaxes, just a little. Lets herself slink a little deeper into Luke’s side.)

***

It feels sneaky, bumming rides off him every other day, seeing him on weekends outside of school. Barely talking to him in it. It feels secret. It's nice.

***

“Come in,” she tells him one day, finally, them idling in front of her house, longer and longer and longer. 

“Sure,” he says, eager, and turns the car off.

Gail leads him up the drive, turns her key in the lock. Thanks fuck her mom’s probably still at work. Introduces him to her father. Luke shakes his hand, answers all his questions. Says _sir_ a lot. Gail ends the inquisition, steers him back to the family room in the back of the house, quick through the hall with lots of very incriminating Peck family photos.

Settles down next to him on the worn comfy couch. Gail picks up the remote, starts fiddling with it, clicking through the channels. She really should have thought this invite-him-in thing all the way through. Stops at a reality show. Families surviving in the Alaskan wilderness.

Luke watches with interest, and he _would_ , frankly, but whatever. It's less awkward than silence, less awkward than expectation.

At the first commercial break, he starts fidgeting, nervous.

"You hungry," Gail asks. Trying to head off whatever he's gearing up for.

"Oh, no, I'm fine." Fidget fidget fidget. "But, um. I was wondering. Do you want to go to prom with me?"

Gail’s mind goes blank. Thinks, _prom's in three months._ Thinks, _we haven’t even kissed._

He continues, talking faster. ”I—I’m sorry. Maybe that’s a weird thing to ask. I just--I just really like you. And wanted to ask you now. Or—fuck. I would like to be your boyfriend, is all, also.” His face is flushed, embarrassed, and jesus christ Gail has already dated one emotional basket case this year, she's not sure she can handle another but still god his face--

"Yes, Luke. Of course." Shoves his arm, just a little. "Don't be getting all soft on me."

He exhales, relaxes, straight-up beams at her. "Okay, like. Awesome. I'm really glad." Takes her hand. Threads their fingers together.

Gail rolls her eyes. Embarrassment, relief. Fondness. 

Scoots closer.


End file.
